Kilmeny of the Orchard eBook

The next morning Eric took David up to the Gordon
homestead. As they approached the old orchard
a strain of music came floating through the resinous
morning arcades of the spruce wood—­a wild,
sorrowful, appealing cry, full of indescribable pathos,
yet marvelously sweet.

“What is that?” exclaimed David, starting.

“That is Kilmeny playing on her violin,”
answered Eric. “She has great talent in
that respect and improvises wonderful melodies.”

When they reached the orchard Kilmeny rose from the
old bench to meet them, her lovely luminous eyes distended,
her face flushed with the excitement of mingled hope
and fear.

“Oh, ye gods!” muttered David helplessly.

He could not hide his amazement and Eric smiled to
see it. The latter had not failed to perceive
that his friend had until now considered him as little
better than a lunatic.

“Kilmeny, this is my friend, Dr. Baker,”
he said.

Kilmeny held out her hand with a smile. Her
beauty, as she stood there in the fresh morning sunshine
beside a clump of her sister lilies, was something
to take away a man’s breath. David, who
was by no means lacking in confidence and generally
had a ready tongue where women were concerned, found
himself as mute and awkward as a school boy, as he
bowed over her hand.

But Kilmeny was charmingly at ease. There was
not a trace of embarrassment in her manner, though
there was a pretty shyness. Eric smiled as he
recalled his first meeting with her. He
suddenly realized how far Kilmeny had come since then
and how much she had developed.

With a little gesture of invitation Kilmeny led the
way through the orchard to the wild cherry lane, and
the two men followed.

“Eric, she is simply unutterable!” said
David in an undertone. “Last night, to
tell you the truth, I had a rather poor opinion of
your sanity. But now I am consumed with a fierce
envy. She is the loveliest creature I ever saw.”

Eric introduced David to the Gordons and then hurried
away to his school. On his way down the Gordon
lane he met Neil and was half startled by the glare
of hatred in the Italian boy’s eyes. Pity
succeeded the momentary alarm. Neil’s face
had grown thin and haggard; his eyes were sunken and
feverishly bright; he looked years older than on the
day when Eric had first seen him in the brook hollow.

Prompted by sudden compassionate impulse Eric stopped
and held out his hand.

“Neil, can’t we be friends?” he
said. “I am sorry if I have been the cause
of inflicting pain on you.”

“Friends! Never!” said Neil passionately.
“You have taken Kilmeny from me. I shall
hate you always. And I’ll be even with
you yet.”

He strode fiercely up the lane, and Eric, with a shrug
of his shoulders, went on his way, dismissing the
meeting from his mind.

The day seemed interminably long to him. David
had not returned when he went home to dinner; but
when he went to his room in the evening he found his
friend there, staring out of the window.